


Wicked Game

by St0rmy



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Eavesdropping, F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Three Year Gap (Dragon Ball), Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St0rmy/pseuds/St0rmy
Summary: No, Vegeta didn't want to fall in love. Certainly not with her.





	Wicked Game

**Author's Note:**

> My take on songfics, borrowing inspiration from Chris Isaak's steamy, pining 1989 rock song.

Vegeta’s world was on fire. The heat emanating from his body warmed his bedroom to scorching temperatures. He tossed and turned throughout the night, clammy limbs tangled in damp sheets. Sleep came in fits and spurts, punctuated by scandalous thoughts and the growing demands of his body. Although he’d spent years disciplining both his mind and body as an intergalactic soldier, recently he was having more and more difficulty curbing his carnal desires. As the planet he now called home adjusted its orbit and the days became longer and warmer, so too did his hormones shift, and the gnawing demands of the flesh became hard to ignore.

His world was on fire, and although he refused to admit it, the only one who could save him was  _ her _ . He’d never dreamed that he’d need someone like her, a weak human with laughable strength and a negligible ki signature, but what Bulma lacked in physical prowess she more than made up for in spunk. It was her temper that kept him amused initially; pushing her buttons became somewhat of a game for him, and he enjoyed the mental stimulation of riling her up. When she caught on to his little game, though, she began to play one of her own. Scantily-clad displays of her femininity distracted him daily, and her brashness seldom failed to make him blush. What started as a mere game of one-upmanship gradually morphed into something much more dangerous.

It's  _ strange _ what desire will make foolish people do. At first, gentle brushes of her fingertips against his forearm or the scent of her soft hair as he leaned over her shoulder at the lab bench were just too much. Gradually, they became not enough. He was going out of his way to linger outside her bedroom door in the mornings, hoping to catch her on her way down to breakfast. She would find excuses to meet him outside the gravity room with a towel and a beverage, claiming that she was just passing by on her way to check data readouts. She might brush her knuckles against the back of his hand as they passed in the hall. He might rest his forearm against the wall as they spoke in the kitchen late at night, leaning in close under the guise that they needed to keep their voices quiet.

His mounting late-night frustration was maddening, this ache that caused him to bury his face into the pillows where her scent still vaguely lingered, uselessly rutting into the mattress. He’d never dreamed that he’d  _ need _ somebody like her. Each time he closed his eyes, his mind wandered down the hall toward her room. He could hear her sighing as she shifted around in her bed, making soft sounds that only his Saiyan ears would pick up in the night. The air was so thick with her scent that he could taste her, his mouth watering as he greedily slid his hand to his hips.

But no, he didn’t want to fall in love. Not with her, not with anyone. Even now his guilt mounted over this indulgence in the useless pleasures of the flesh. All the while, his birthright continued to elude him, possibly getting further and further out of reach. He knew that such frivolous desires were merely a distraction, but despite his resolve, he felt nearly helpless in her presence at times. 

How else was he supposed to feel when his gaze continually caught on her sun-warmed body as she lounged by the pool? His mind wandered back to that afternoon as he sat in the grass, leaning deeply forward to stretch his hamstrings, enjoying some fresh air after his morning training session. When his muscles burned in protest and he sat back up, the sheen of her dewy curves seized his attention. The way her full lips twisted in concentration as she pored over a scientific journal in her lap, perhaps also the way her breasts heaved with a sigh as the heat became stifling, pried his attention away from the tightness in his muscles and instead to the tightness in his groin. What a  _ wicked _ game to play, to make him feel this way. He was sure that this display was purposeful.

Even when alone, he couldn’t escape his maddening desire. Just as Saiyans were insatiable at the table, their appetite for carnal desires was unmatched. The longer Vegeta ignored his appetite, the more desperate his situation became. Such a  _ wicked _ thing to do, to make him dream of her lying in the sun near the pool. Instead of filling his hands with the soft warmth of her curves, he selfishly filled his hands with his own hardness, finding only the fleeting release of pressure but no relief from his desire. 

Having no private bathing quarters of his own, Vegeta was relegated to shuffling down the hall in the darkness to wash his hands of the damning evidence of his weakness. As he crept back toward his room, the scent of p heromones and sweat wafted down the hallway toward him, ripe as a Saiyan springtime. More clearly now, he could hear her.

_ Moaning _ . 

He felt his face growing warm, his muscles stiff as he soundlessly crept past her room. He didn’t mean to stop, didn’t mean to incline his head toward her door, but the sounds within were too alluring. He could hear her shuddering breaths, the soft hum of something mechanical, the rise and fall of her hips against the mattress. Before he could stop himself, he felt the cool press of her door against his forehead as he leaned against it, closing his eyes. His lips parted as he breathed her in, tasting her scent, letting it wash into his lungs. Vegeta had, without a doubt,  _ never _ felt this way. It was so lecherous but  _ oh _ so delicious, quenching the desperate thirst that had been plaguing him for weeks.

“...- _ geta _ …”

His train of thought came crashing to a halt as her velvet voice floated to him from the other side of the door. What a  _ wicked _ thing to say. He felt heat rising from his collar as he pressed his palms to the door and leaned in close, his ear pressed to the flat surface.

His breath stilled as he strained to listen for any other sounds, but all he heard was the soft song of her vibrator and the catch of her breath in her throat as she struggled to stay quiet. His hand fell away from the door and trailed down his abdomen. He softly grunted at the relieving sensation of pressure on his groin. 

On the other side of the door, he could hear the sound of her quickening breaths, the drag of her nails across cotton sheets. Her breath hitched in her throat and he grit his teeth to stifle his own voice. What a  _ wicked _ thing to do. Vegeta’s jaw clenched as his hips helplessly bucked into the friction of his open palm.

The soft  _ click _ of her toy turning off startled him back to awareness. A bright flush reddened his skin from his shoulders to the tips of his ears. In one hand, the damning proof of his desperation throbbed insistently. In his other hand, he was horrified to realize, was her doorknob, half-turned.

No, he  _ didn’t  _ want to fall in love. But his world was on fire, his body glowing like the embers of a neglected fire. She was the wind, breathing life into him and stoking the flames, causing long-forgotten desires to flare.

It's  _ strange _ what desire will make foolish people do.

He felt a knot of tension in his shoulders uncoil as he twisted her doorknob the rest of the way.

He’d never dreamed that he’d love somebody like her: a fiery human of formidable wit and cunning. Yet the turmoil that had been boiling over within him for  _ weeks _ finally began settling as he allowed himself to be pulled down into her bed. As cautious lips met between them, for the first time, he admitted it to himself:

Nobody loves no-one.


End file.
